In Poland there is a meetinghouse, very large, that looks from the outside nothing like a church: there is no steeple, nothing specially setting it apart. It could be a warehouse, a factory, or a meeting hall. Inside, however, rank after rank of galleries provide seating for thousands. The acoustics are perfect. At the front you can hear the choir and in the choir they can hear you, clear as day, as if you were not far apart at all. It is one of three Protestant meetinghouses in that town; all that were allowed.
Last summer during a Sunday service they performed Bach’s Magnificat – an unlikely setting for the song of exaltation, for heralding the coming birth of the world’s Savior; as unlikely as a stable or a manger to host the birth of the Son of God. And yet there it was, as it is, now, in meeting house, warehouse, factory, or stable: God’s word comes to us, to be with us where we are, to quicken our hearts, enliven our faith, and transform our lives – into things of glory.
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